Dear Fred,
by xXcoolkat390Xx
Summary: George decides to write a letter to the dearly departed one day.


Dear Fred,

Let me just start off by telling you, yes, I am very aware that you're dead. I haven't gone off my rocker and did this as some weird denial thing. No, I've just run out of ways to cope, and it was either this or finally give into Mom's incessant pleas for me to go see the Wizard Psychiatrist. I know if you were here you'd take the mickey out of me just for that, but then again if you were here, I wouldn't have the need for a psychiatrist, now would I? But my point is, this my latest brilliant method. Writing a letter to my dead twin who'll never read it or respond to it. And I'm certain if you would've heard that, you'd take a crack at that, too. No offense, mate, but tactfulness was never really your strong suit. So anyways, on with the letter.

How could you? How could you just leave me here on my own? Your a raving prat and the next time I see you, I'll hex your bloody arse off! Did you even consider that by abandoning your twin brother, you'd ruin his life? Because you did! I can't do anything without being reminded of you; going to our flat, going to our shop, being by our friends, being by our family, and going to Hogwarts because that's where you fucking died! You've ruined all those things for me! And not to mention you've torn our whole family apart. Mom can't stop crying, Percy been on a guilt trip ever since that blasted night, Ron and Ginny can't seem to get away from our lot fast enough, and no one can even look me in the bloody eye now! Don't you see what you've done? Because I'm your twin, no one will ever be able to move on as long as I'm here. I mean how can they, every time they see my goddamn face they think I'm you, and then they think you're back, and then your death hits them all over again. So I try to pretend like I'm you so they can at least feel a little better for a while, but they see right through me. I'm not you, Fred. I'll never be you.

I'm trying to move on with life, to be a singleton and be ok with that, but how can I be? Being a twin is all I've ever known. I should've prepared myself better, and I really shouldn't have spent my whole life with you practically stapled to my side. Then maybe I wouldn't feel so fucking lonely right now. And maybe then I wouldn't have to try and fill the void deep inside me with a lot of unproductive things like Firewhisky, acting like a complete arse to the people I care about, and sleeping with your ex. Oh that's right, you read correctly. I'm fucking Angelina, and I realize she's only doing it because she's pretending I'm you, and I realize how bloody messed up that is, but I don't care. It's the only thing that feels good, even if afterwards it just makes me feel like shite.

I always thought we were interchangeable, I mean we are identical down to the last freckle, but now I realize I've been sorely mistaken. Because I can't replace you, Fred. I'm not good enough to. I've never really admitted it to myself, probably because I've never really known it before, but you were always the better twin. You were more energetic, talked more, joked more, were better with girls, and I'm pretty sure people just generally liked you better. You were the leader and I was the follower. And now look at me. I have absolutely nothing to follow, and that means I'm absolutetly nothing. I'm nothing without you, Fred.

You know, Mom called me your name the other day. Then she burst into tears and ran out of the room. Remember when we used to joke how she could never tell us apart? Well I don't find the joke particularly funny anymore. Because now its painfully obvious which twin is here, which twin will always be the one that survived, and which one is six feet under. And I think of anyone, Mom's taking it the hardest. It was her boggart for any of her children to die. Both of our boggarts came true the night of that fucking battle.

So yesterday Hermione had a long talk with me about these things muggles call the "stages of grief": denial, bargaining, anger, depression, and acceptance. Apparently I've moved past denial and bargaining and I'm on anger right now. It kind of sounds like a bunch of useless shite to me, but then again I am writing this letter so I shouldn't judge how other people deal with grief, eh?

I'm scared, Fred. I really am. I'm scared I'll never get over this. I'm scared I'll never stop feeling like this. But most of all, I'm scared of being alone. It's kind of disturbing how much I've come to depend on you over the years, but you really have always been my constant companion. I'd compare myself to people without twins, and I'd think to myself, blimeny I'm lucky. I thought I'd always have you there. I seriously never even once considered what it might be like if you left me. I thought we'd always be inseperable. Now I realize what a bloody fool I've been.

Well now I'm running out of parchment and things to rant about, so I might as well just end this now. But first let me state the obvious; I miss you, Fred. And I know no matter how old I get, how many years have gone by, I'll always miss you. That's one thing about me that I know will never change. There's always gonna be something incomplete about my life from now on, and that'll be the lack of my twin by my side, but hey, I guess that's just life. I mean look at Harry freaking Potter, he lost his parents and his godfather and he turned out just fine. And Mom did tell me it gets better with time. Apparently when she lost her twin brothers it hurt like hell at first, but then it was just a good memory to look back at their great lives and to know that they died bravely. And trust me, Fred, no one lived a greater life or died more bravely then you did. Well, I hope your having fun in heaven. Guess you're the Holey one now, aren't you? Ah, that joke never gets old. Play pranks on Snape for me, will ya? I'm sure Sirius and James will be more than happy to help. But don't have too much fun until I get there, ok?

Your twin,

George


End file.
